


Spray my name on the wall of your heart

by sweetkisses



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Boys In Love, Corny, Fall/Winter, Falling In Love, Fluff, Graffiti, Hidden Child Abuse, M/M, Pining, Side Ben and Bev, Side Bill and Stan, Teenagers, They are 17, no pennywise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 13:25:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12433779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetkisses/pseuds/sweetkisses
Summary: Eddie realizes his feelings for Richie while Richie leaves graffiti all over Derry.





	Spray my name on the wall of your heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, this fic just popped in my head one day, I was planning to make it a short 7k fic but here we are with wayyyyy to many words lol. Let me just say that if there are any mistakes please let me know and i will fix them asap. I wanted a nice fall fic but somehow it kind of turned into a fall/Christmas fic instead. The characters are based off of the 2017 IT movie so sorry if you're any book goers. Also I don't know anything about graffiti or the law system so that information might be a bit iffy, I apologize. 
> 
> Oh also Mike goes to the same school as the other losers. Eddie has terrible anxiety as well. 
> 
> I really love writing about this ship and the other losers so if you have any prompts or anything hit me up on tumblr and ill be happy to see what i can do. 
> 
> Here is my tumblr: eddie-spaghetti-tozier.tumblr.com (sorry I don't know how to hyper link)

“Gentlemen and lady, I have the best proposition for you all.” Richie announces throwing down his lunch tray that is just filled with cookies and a water. He slides onto the bench between Bev, a beautiful thin red haired girl with dark freckles, and Eddie, a short small boy with perfectly styled black hair and dark innocent eyes.

“No.” Stan says, a tall thin boy with a soft face and light brown curly hair. “The last idea you had ended with Eddie breaking his arm when you said decided that we just  _had_  to explore the Neibolt.”

“I still hate you for that night, Halloween is never the same for me anymore.” Mike says, a dark skinned boy with a nice smile, dark hair and arms strong enough to pick up a car. Metaphorically.

“First off, I make all our Halloween’s fucking amazing so don’t even complain,” he points at Mike. “Second, Eddie broke his arm because he stepped on the  _one_  floorboard I told him not to step on.” Richie takes a bite of his cookie, “Besides Eddie forgives me.” He throws an arm around the smaller boy.

“I’m still bitter about it.” Eddie just smiles lightly, ignoring the butterflies forming in his stomach from the taller boy. It’s no secret that he likes Richie- well it’s a secret but not a very well kept one. He discovered his feelings for the obnoxious boy just 2 years ago -freshman year- when he caught himself staring at Richie laughing. He was beautiful and Eddie wished he could kiss him. By then Eddie already knew he was gay- figured it out when he was 14 but that’s also a bit of a secret. And by that I mean that only the losers club knows -it’s the 90’s being gay is still a weird ostracized thing to be.

“So, what is this proposition?” Ben bit’s into Richie’s line. He’s a pale boy whose a little bigger with an adorable smile.

After a few beats of silence where Richie shoved a whole cookie in his mouth he answers.  _Disgusting_ , Eddie thinks, yet  _endearing_.

“I’m glad you asked Benny-boy,” he shares a smile with the table. “I bought us all some spray paint!” He nearly hops out of his seat, almost dragging Eddie who’s his arm is still around with him.

“Why would you buy s-spray paint?” Bill the tallest of the bunch with dark hair. He only stutters a bit. He used to stutter every sentence back in middle school but now it’s only about a few times a day he stutters. Thanks to the school system for having speech sessions with him.

“For tagging, duh.” Richie huffs. Eddie just stares up a bit at the boy wondering why the  _fuck_  he wants to do graffiti. Eddie voices his thoughts out loud.

“Why the fuck do you want to graffiti the town?” He shakes Richie’s arm off his shoulder. Regretting the action. “Also, why the hell do we need to participate? I’m not trying to get weirdly high and it’s fall-.”

“Eddie, Ed’s, Ed’s, take a deep breath you little worrier.” He looks into Eddie’s eyes.  _Fuck, Richie looks cute in those glasses_ , Eddie thinks. They do make his eyes five times bigger than normal but still. Even on the rare occasions that Richie is wearing contacts Eddie can’t help but slightly miss the big block glasses.

Eddie crosses his arms and huffs at the boy for interrupting and calling him that dumb -yet cute- nickname.

“Answer the question, Richie.” Stan demands with a bored expression.

“I am!” Richie’s voice gets oddly high. “I just think it would be nice to run around together and draw cool things on the side of buildings.”

“You mean vandalism.” Ben says.

“I  _mean_  fun.” He fires back, everyone just rolls their eyes. Richie sighs loudly. “You all need to stop being fucking pussies. We only have a little over a year until we go to college so let’s fuck with Derry for the little time left we have.”

“Well, I’m in.” Bev voices up while sipping on a water.

“Yes!” Richie shouts.

“Why?” Bill asks at the same time. Bev rolls her eyes and address the table.

“Tagging Derry sounds amazing. We hate this place, we all have had bad experiences here. Why not fuck it up?” They all look at the table, no one making eye contact but instead thinking of their struggles.

For Bev, her dad who abused her until he died in a car accident. For Bill, the loss of his little brother, Georgie. For Mike, being forced to kill the sheep for his grandfather. For Stan, emotional abuse from his father for his fails at Hebrew. For Ben, being nearly killed by Henry Bowers; twice. For Richie, his parents neglecting him and still neglecting him to this day. For Eddie, figuring out his medicine is fake and now has extreme anxiety. And for them all, the nonstop hate they have endured since middle school.

“Everyone treats us like dumb losers and it’s time we show them that we aren’t.” Bev continues.

“In their defense we are called the losers’ club.” Eddie points out, she glares at him. He knows she’s right though. This town deserves hell and fuck it if Eddie doesn’t give it what it deserves. Screw his mom he’s going to be huffing the fucking spray paint. No damn asthma for him -not since he was 13. Now he’s 17 and he’s going to fuck up this town.

“So just me and Bev? Come on boys-.” Richie asks in a dumb British accent.

“I’m in.” Eddie says fast and fierce, his heart beating with excitement and nerves.

“Ed’s my boy, I love ya.” Richie continues you in his terrible accent. Eddie doesn’t love them - _he doesn't!_  “You four in? We can put some tits on the side of the library.” His accent still going and damn Eddie loves them.

The rest of the group slowly replies with ‘yeah’ and ‘sure’. Richie smiles bright at them all and Eddie can’t believe they got dragged into another Richie proposition.

*

“My mom is so gonna kill me.” Eddie whispers into the night. It’s about 8pm, his mom had already kissed him goodnight and went into her room. It takes no more than five minutes before Richie is throwing little peddles at Eddie window and whisper-shouting at him to climb out.

“If she does find out don’t worry I’ll fuck her until she forgets-.”

“Beep Beep, Richie,” Eddie growls out the window. “Alright I’m coming out.” He calls down. First he adjusts his all black clothes and an old hoodie that he secretly thinks is Bill’s or Richie’s because it’s huge on him. He slips on his backpack and throws one leg out his window. His anxiety is at an all time high. He hasn’t snuck out his window in months -usually it’s just Richie sneaking in. Eddie  _really_  doesn’t want to fall and his moment of hesitation shows it.

“Crawl your way to the ledge and I’ll catch you.” Richie calls up. Eddie blushes with embarrassment, fear, and the inner need to jump into the other boy’s arms.

“Okay- I got this.” Eddie whispers to himself and flings his other leg over onto the roof. The short boy makes his way over to the ledge where Richie is standing and waiting for him. His curls frame his head and his eyes seem to look even bigger behind his glasses from this angle.

“Slowly move down and I’ll catch you.” Richie calls up to him.

“What if you don’t catch me and I break all my bones? Then I’ll be immobile for months to come and I’ll-.”

“Stop worrying, Papa Richie will catch you.”

“Don’t call yourself that.” Eddie still standing on the edge of the roof, slowly crouching down.

“Why not? Once I propose to your mom I’ll officially be papa to you.” He chuckles, Eddie glares down at him.

“God just shut the fuck up.” Eddie whispers, focusing on the task at hand. He stares down at Richie again. Thinking over the bad things that could happen if he falls wrong or if Richie gets distracted and doesn’t catch him.

“Come on,  _babe_.” Richie says and Eddie lets out a squeak and loudly falls off the roof and into the taller boys arms, knocking them both onto the ground.  _Did he call me fucking babe_?!? Eddie thinks, his mind is pounding with so many thoughts. Did his mom hear him? Why did Richie call him babe? How is Richie this warm, it’s freezing outside? And why the fuck did Richie call him  _babe_?

“Oh, fuck shit. Fuck.” Eddie breaths, pushing his face into the hard chest he’s laying on.

“Shit! Did you break something?” Richie begins to touch Eddie’s arms and face, making the smaller boy look at him.

“No.” Eddie looks into the eyes of his crush who just called him  _babe_. He feels warm and comfortable and just  _right_  laying here with (on) Richie. God, fuck his stupid crush.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Richie sighs. Eddie smiles as he looks at the other boy. Their faces close enough that Eddie can count each eyelash. Richie’s mouth is slightly opened to show is teeth which are large and crooked and give him the best smile Eddie’s ever seen. His breath smells like pop and maybe if Eddie wasn’t so worried about the possible consequences he could lean in and kiss the other boy. 

“Thanks for catching me.” Eddie whispers, staring at Richie’s mouth even though he shouldn’t. Maybe Richie is staring at his too. Maybe that’s why Richie hasn’t pushed him off yet. Maybe he wants to kiss Eddie as bad as Eddie wants to kiss him. Maybe if he just-.

“Well duh, I don’t need Stan thinking he was fucking right all along about my proposition by you breaking another arm.”

“Fuck you.” Eddie says pushing himself roughly off Richie, earning a groan when his elbow digs into the other’s stomach. _Good_ , he thinks. He stands up and dusts himself off while Richie still lays on the ground and stares up at the stars.

“Get up.” Eddie kicks the others leg. Slowly Richie gets up, his backpack clinking with the spray cans. He doesn’t bothering wiping off the dirt on himself, no surprise there. He stands tall, way taller than Eddie who just barely reaches his shoulder. He’s wearing all black with a pair of dirty white converse. Eddie thinks it’s the only shoes he owns.

“Is that my fucking hoodie?” Richie points to Eddie’s chest. The boy looks down at the hoodie and then back up at Richie.

“No. It’s Bill’s.” Eddie lies.

“Okay.” There’s a best of silence, the boys blink at each other. Then: “Taleo, Edward. The others arth waiting.” Richie grabs him by the arm and drags them away into the night.

*

“I fully regret this.” Stan says, holding hands with Bill. All the losers are lined up and staring up at the empty building side. The library to be exact, the left side of it cracked and discolored -honestly just begging to be covered in messy designs from the dirty hands of seven 17 year olds.

“No, I think this is gonna be fun,” Mike voices.

“Fun until the cops come and we are all arrested and then have a juvenile record. Actually if the court finds our case bad enough they could charge us as adults. If they do that then we could go to prison. Fucking  _prison_  guys. I can’t go to prison my mom might kill me. If she doesn’t kill me then I’ll for sure be fucking killed in prison. Or worse I’ll be-.” Eddie rants, panicking badly that his hands begin to shake.

“Shhh, Ed’s. You’re ruining the moment.” Richie whispers, grabbing Eddie’s wrist to get his hands to stop shaking. The panicking transfers to his crush for Richie instead. Does he know what he’s doing when he touches Eddie like this? Does he know that it calms Eddie yet makes his heart beat pick up? Does he? He probably does.  _Fuck him_.

“Richie hand me some spray paint.” Mike says. Richie let’s go of Eddie -the smaller boy frowns as his anxiety transfers back to the horror of their situation.

“Mike, my boy.” Richie smirks, pulling off his backpack and grabbing out a blue can that he hands to Mike and then a red can that he holds in his own hand.

“Let me see one.” Bev walks over to the backpack, dragging Ben with her, and grabs a yellow for herself and a green for Ben. Next, Bill grabs orange while Stan grabs a purple. The losers all step back and stare at the wall again.

“Eddie?” Ben asks, noticing that he was the only one who didn’t grab a color. Eddie fidgets under everyone’s stare. He’s not scared he’s just worried. So many things can go wrong here. As he looks at all his friends who have been there and support him through his bad anxiety, he smiles.

“Can me.” Eddie says lamely and puts his hand out to Richie.

“I got you your favorite color.” Richie smirks as he pulls out a pink can.

“Oh, fuck you.” Eddie blushes and rolls his eyes as he walks up to the wall, the other losers following. They all shake their cans,  _click, click, click_  fills the air as they raise their shirts up over their mouths. Richie is the first to spray and as soon as he does the other losers go wild.

Eddie sprays a large spot with his pink spray paint. All his anxiety goes away when he laughs at himself, spraying the library wall again and again and again. He makes a blob on the wall and quickly switches colors with Mike who is doing some sort of cloud on his part of the wall. Eddie doesn’t make anything -just a bunch of different colors as he switches cans with each of the losers. He laughs and smiles under Richie’s hoodie as he feels relief instead of anxiety.

The colors layer over each other, pink under blue. Blue under red and so on. It’s nothing, that’s what’s he making, but it’s also something. It’s his fun side. It’s his love for the other losers. It’s him overcoming his anxiety and breaking away. It’s him giving a big fuck you to this town. It’s Eddie fucking Kaspbrak.

After some time, Eddie takes a step back joining Ben, Stan and Bill who have been standing a bit away and watching. Eddie looks at Bev who is making a beautiful flower, he’s not surprised she’s good at this. Mike is creating some sort of raining sky. While Richie is spraying out five -or six- simple letters. They’re black, surrounded by white and one of them is a deep red.

_Loser_  it reads but over the  _S_  is a red  _V_.

_Lover_  is what it really reads.

It’s his cast after Richie’s last proposition. Eddie’s mom forbid him to hang out with the losers and forced him to his bed. Until he went to the pharmacy and fucking Greta Bowie from the year above them decided to write on his arm.  _Loser_. She fucking wrote loser in big black letters. Fuck her.

Eddie remembers crying himself to sleep that night. He also remembers Richie crawling up into his window. Richie hugging him and telling him how much he missed him. He apologized over and over again until they both fell asleep fully clothed on top of Eddie’s bed. When Eddie woke up Richie was gone and there was a red  _V_  written over the  _S_  on his cast.

Eddie smiles at the boy. Of course Richie would do this. Do something that would make Eddie’s heartbeat quicken and his stomach fill with ball of warmth.

“Wow.” He hears Bill say from beside him. Stan nods in head in agreement. Eddie just takes a deep breath and slowly sits on the ground; not caring about the germs or dirt. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Richie. Staring at the taller and watching as he moves with the spray paint. He has an old rag that he’s holding up over his mouth and nose. His hands are stained with color but he doesn’t seem to mind. Richie was made for this, oddly enough. He looks at peace as he moves over the letters, correcting his mistakes and making his work look clean.

Eddie pulls his legs close and rests his chin on his knees. This was the moment that Eddie’s crush for Richie blossomed into a deep red solid heart of love.

*

“I have so much energy now.” Richie tells Eddie as they walk home. It took about two hours for all the losers to finish tagging the side of the library. Bev basically had made a whole meadow by the time Richie was  _finally_  done writing that one word of the wall. Eddie’s butt was a little frozen from sitting on the cold ground. He wouldn’t complain about it though -if he could watch Richie tag a new spot in Derry every night he’ll die happily.

“You’re probably high.” Eddie tells him as they take a short cut through their evil older neighbors yard.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Richie shrugs. “I’m just so glad that you came. It was amazing, Mike’s design was like I could fucking walk right into the wall. After tonight I wanna tag everything -everywhere and every night.” Eddie swears he can see Richie’s eyes shin with happiness.

“How about we start with once a week?”

“Really?” The boys stop walking, having arrived at Eddie’s house. “You’d fucking do that? You’d come tag with me once a week?” He smiles in the moonlight; his smile brighter than the moon.

“Sure.” Eddie digs his foot into the dirt. “I mean I’ll go with you and watch but I don’t think I’m made for the whole art thing.” He laughs dryly.

“Oh, fuck off. You did good tonight.” Richie tells him. Eddie tilts his head at him, wondering what Richie is getting at. There is a moment of silence before either of them speak, their breaths showing in the cold fall air.

“I made a blob of color.”

“But you made  _something_. Papa Richie couldn’t be prouder of his boy.” Richie jokes. Eddie kicks dirt at him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie smiles at the ground. “Help me onto my roof?” He asks, Richie nods with a smile that hasn’t gone away since he stepped back from his graffiti design and looked directly at Eddie for approval. The smaller boy just answered with a smile so wide that his teeth still hurt.

Trying to be quiet the taller boy bends down and cups his hands for Eddie to step into. He lifts Eddie up and onto the roof -not too graciously. Eddie climbs up and near his still opened window. He really hopes no bugs or animals went in his room. Quietly he sticks one foot inside and turns back to look down at Richie.

“Hey.” He calls to the other boy who’s hands are stuffed deep in his jean pockets. He feels brave from tonight’s event. His new love encourages his next words:

“I really loved what you drew on my cast all those years ago.” He whispers into the night and for once Richie doesn’t say anything. He just smiles, waves and walks away into the night. Eddie falls asleep that night with a warmth in his body and the smell of spray paint on his hands.

*

The next day a rumor is going around school that a group of hooligans had put graffiti on the library. Most people are saying it was the Bowers gang giving a last fuck you before their graduation in the spring. Others are saying it was a group from the next town over. Some though know it’s the losers’ club. Probably because Richie smells like spray paint since the boy never takes a fucking shower. But mostly because the library wall says the word that was written on Eddie Kaspbrak’s arm for half a year.

“Did anyone do the math homework?” Bev asks from her seat. The whole losers’ club somehow ended up in the same homeroom and claimed the desks in the back left corner. Everyone has arrived except Richie who is causing chaos in the halls.

“I did,” Bill says. “But this is the last time I’m letting you c-copy. You haven’t done the homework  _once_  all year.” He slips out his homework and hands it over.

“Fine, fine.” She tells him. “I’ll just copy from Ben now on.” She whispers, Eddie the only one to hear here. He chuckles at her comment. There’s a light pink spray paint stuck under his nails that he couldn’t get out during his shower this morning. He picks at it, smiling.

“Can I also copy that?” Mike asks, scooting his chair over to Bev and pulling out a blank paper.

“I guess!” Bill says annoyed. “Why d-don’t you guys just come with Stan and I to the library after school?” He asks.

“No one wants to watch you and Stan suck face while trying to figure out their trig homework.” Eddie states.

“That’s basically what you and Richie do when you two hang out with us.” Stan smiles darkly, earning an odd look from the others.

“And what the fuck does that mean?” Eddie glares at him.

“Boys. Stop.” Bev says, giving Eddie a soft look as if she knows. As if they all know. They probably do, it’s not like Eddie is sly about his feelings. Eddie brings his feet up on his chair and hugs his knees as anxiety fills him. Do his friends know? Will they hate him for loving Richie? They don’t mind he’s gay- no Stan and Bill are gay too. And Richie likes both boys and girls. No, it just makes Eddie anxious that everyone knows that he loves Richie. He can only hope Richie doesn’t notice -he can’t lose his best friend.

The bell rings, signaling the beginning of homeroom which is just twenty minutes of nothing. Their teacher begins to take attendance and somehow Richie comes stumbling into the classroom just as his name is called. His backpack slug over one of his shoulders, a paper falling out of an open pocket.

“Here.” He breathes out in a weird accent. His long legs take four strides until he’s falling into the seat next to Mike. His hair is messy and his eyes are wider than normal. Richie’s face is flushed and he looks frightened for some reason.

“You okay?” Eddie leans over and whispers to Richie. The big eyes look at Eddie, eyeing him up and down from his curled spot in his chair.

“Fucking Bowers.” Is all he says. Eddie nods against his knee and stares at the side of Richie’s face. He turns to talk to Mike, discussing some weird comic that Richie read last night. The taller boy’s hands are still covered in spray paint and for some reason that makes Eddie want to hold them more than ever before. He resists.  

“Did you do the French homework?” Richie asks Eddie. They are the only ones who decided to take French while everyone else took Spanish. Well Eddie decided to take French and after a week of Richie telling him it’s a dumb choice he somehow ended up in the same class. RI chi’s said it was because he didn’t get along with the Spanish teacher but Stan said it was because he wanted to be with Eddie. Who’s reason is right though? 

“We didn’t have French homework.” Eddie tells him.

“Really? I’m 1000% sure that Madame Belcastro said we had to do homework. She does talk on in French so maybe she said she wanted to fuck me.” Richie taps his fingers on the back of Eddie’s chair.

“I’m 1000% sure she didn’t say that.”

“Why did you even take French, Richie? You suck at it.” Ben says, not taking his eyes off of he homework.

“Te baiser.” Richie smirks.

“What does that mean?” Bill asks Eddie.

“Fuck you. Richie has only taken the time to learn the swear words in French.” He smiles.

“Your mom sure loves it when I say fuck in French.” Richie winks at Eddie making the smaller boy blush and look away. “It really gets her moaning.”

“You’re an ass.” He tells him.

”Say it to me in French.” Richie leans towards him. 

“Je te deteste.” Eddie mumbles into his knee. _I hate you_ , is what it means. 

“Ugh, that turns me on.” Richie moans obnoxiously and leans back in his chair. Everyone rolls their eyes at him.

Homeroom ends and the losers split up in different directions. Bill, Mike and Stan to Math. Ben and Bev to Music. Eddie and Richie to English.

“What did Bowers do to you?” Eddie asks once the other losers are gone.

“Called me Bucky Beavers and said some shit things about you.” Richie glares at random students.

“About me?” Eddie frowns. He stuffs his hands into his jean pocket and looks down at his pink T-shirt.

“Don’t worry, Ed’s. Papa Richie stood up for you.” Richie slaps his arm around Eddie’s shoulder, pulling the boy closer.

“You defended my pride. I’m so fucking honored.” Eddie paces a hand onto his heart for emphasis.

“Only the best for my cute prince.” Richie uses a weird Scottish voice. Eddie just laughs and ignores the butterflies in his stomach.

*

It’s exactly a week after the first graffiti night. Eddie is doing his English homework, sitting at his desk that faces his window in his bedroom. He’s chewing on the edge of his pencil when he hears the familiar  _tick tick tick_ of pebbles against his window. He smiles as he stands up and opens the window, sticking his head out.

“Ed’s my boy!” Richie calls up. He’s wearing a dark blue bandanna with a new backpack around his shoulders and finger-less gloves. His curls somehow look even more wild with the bandanna pushing them back.

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

“We are going to tag the Aladdin.” Richie calls up, shaking his backpack so that Eddie can hear the cans clank together. Eddie bites his lip and turns back to his door where he can hear his mother watching the blaring television downstairs.

“You promised. Once a week, Ed’s.” Richie interrupts before Eddie can let his anxiety and worry take over. He looks down at Richie and then back at his bedroom door. Sighing he calls down:

“Give me five minutes to get changed.”

“Cool, take your time I’m gonna go make out with your mom.” Eddie rolls his eyes and disappears back into his room. He quickly changed out of his baby blue shirt and slips into a dark grey sweatshirt with blue jeans. Sighing with nerves he slowly and quietly slides the lock of his bedroom door, flicking off the lights. Hopefully if his mom tries to come in she’ll just think he’s sleeping. Probably not though.  _Fuck_ \- maybe he shouldn’t go out.

Eddie shakes the thoughts around in his head as he slips into his high top converse and grabs his non-school backpack. He climbs onto his desk and sticks one leg out the window. The roof is covered in fallen leaves and dirt. So disgusting.

“Don’t fucking drop me.” Eddie calls down to Richie who is patently waiting below. With one last look at his locked door Eddie climbs all the way out the window, off the roof and lands neatly in Richie’s arms.

“I’m thinking of tagging either a penis or a skull tonight.” Richie tells him, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it as they walk under the night sky. The air  _way_  colder than it was last week.

“Wow. Spectacular choices.” Eddie deadpans, wrapping his arms around himself. “Are the others coming?” He asks.

“Nope,” Richie pops the  _p_. “Just you, me and an old condom that your mom gave me.”

“Not funny.” Eddie attempts to elbow him but the taller boy dodges it and takes a drag from his cigarette. He chuckles at Eddie’s weak attempt.

“Oh, I brought you something.” Richie digs into his back pocket before pulling out a slightly dirty pink bandanna. He jogs ahead of Eddie and begins walking backwards directly in front of the smaller boy.

“For you, my small friend.” He waves out the bandanna, hitting Eddie in the face. He swats at it, grabbing it from Richie’s hand. Eddie looks at it and then back up at Richie who is still walking backwards in front of him. The cigarette smoke blowing from his mouth and rudely into the small boy’s face.

“Thanks. You do know that pink isn’t my favorite color thought right?” Eddie ties the bandanna around his wrist and ignoring the germs that are on it. It’s Richie’s bandanna, so it’s just Richie’s germs...they can’t be that bad. Actually they can but Eddie stucks it up and moves on.

“The fuck?” Richie takes another drag. “Then why are you always wearing pink?” Eddie blushes. He does always wear pink and it’s kind of sweet that Richie notices.

“I wear pink because my mom basically only buys me pink shirts.” He explains, inhaling the smoke flying into his face. He could tell Richie to stop -he hates cigarettes. They’re are gross and dangerous and they fucking stink. The smell sticks to his clothes and his mother glares at him whenever she washes them.

“Also, can you either move or put that thing out it’s fucking gross.” Eddie growls, waving the smoke out of his face and letting out a little cough.

“Oh, don’t be a pussy.” Richie says but turns slightly to put the cigarette out on the wall of the alley they are walking through. He continues to walk in front of Eddie. The smaller boy kind of hope he falls.

“I’m not a pussy. Smoking is gross and-“

“Your mom’s pussy is-.”

“Beep Beep, Richie.” Eddie cuts him off. They turn the corner, Richie somehow still knowing where he is going even though he’s walking backwards. The Aladdin is in sight. Eddie’s hands begin to sweat at the idea of what’s coming. His anxiety of getting caught is eating at his insides. He wishes he wasn’t afraid. He wishes he was brave like Richie. Richie who is talking to Eddie even though the smaller boy is stuck in his own thoughts to listen. He pulls himself back up.

“-with blue, black and white I think I can make it look pretty fucking scary. Bowers would piss his pants over it. Maybe I’ll save that idea for next week. Tonight I have good one-.” Richie gets cut off as he finally manages to trip over his own feet. He falls back and lands hard, the cans hitting together in his backpack. Eddie lets out a snort of laughter and hunches over. He knew it would happen, he was waiting for it but somehow it’s funnier than he thought.

“Saw that coming.” Eddie let’s out between laughs. Richie just chuckles at himself and rolls up into a seated position.

“Think those cans might have bruised my back.” Richie glares at him as Eddie let’s out another snort.

“Let’s be honest. You fucking deserved that.” Eddie tells him, kicking Richie’s shoe. The curly haired boy takes off his backpack and reaches in to grab the yellow can. He shakes it - _click click click-_ and then looks up at Eddie.

“What color?” He asks. Eddie chews on his lip and looks at the wall of the alley that Aladdin is attached too.

“Can’t I just fucking watch? I told you I’m not good at art.” He tells him. Richie doesn’t listen and instead pulls out a purple and hands it to Eddie.

“Knock yourself out.” He tells the smaller boy before standing up and approaching the wall. He moves the bandanna from around his head to cover up his mouth and nose. Richie glances back at Eddie who is watching him. He winks once and begins to spray. Eddie blushes, looking down at the can in his hand.

Sighing he takes the pink bandanna and ties his like Richie did around his mouth and nose. It smells like stale cigarettes and candy -it fucking stinks like Richie. Eddie hates that he loves it. He breathes it in one time before approaching a spot on the wall a bit farther down from Richie.

All Eddie draws is a large  _E_  onto the wall. After that he takes a seat besides Richie’s backpack and watches the taller boy work. Richie is a natural. He sprays in straight lines and doesn’t seem to want to stop each time he grabs a new can. Yellow, red, orange and black line the wall. A large portion of the alley is filled with Richie’s design. A sunrise. That’s what he makes. It’s large and so real that Eddie swears he can feel the warmth coming from it. Once Richie is done he takes two steps back away from the wall and removes his bandanna; letting it hang around his neck.

“It’s nice.” Eddie hears himself say; looking both at Richie and the sunrise.

“Nicer than your mom’s pussy.” Richie whispers, his voice filled with pride and a smile that Eddie can’t see from his position. He wishes he could. 

“An  _E_  really, Spaghetti?” Richie frowns, turning to the smaller boy sat on the ground.

“It could be worse.” Eddie shrugs. “I told you I’m not good at this stuff.”

“ _‘I told you I’m not good at this stuff’_ is gonna be something you say when you lose your virginity.” Richie smirks at him, the tips of his fingers not covered by gloves are stained red.

“You know what that looks like.” Eddie smiles and nods to Richie’s hand. The boy looks down and lets out a loud laugh.

“Looks like the time I fingered your mom when she was on her period.” Richie laughs again.

“Alright, trashmouth. Shut up.” Eddie stands up and dusts his clothes off.

“Make me.” Richie teases. The two boys stare at each other for a second. Eddie swears that Richie had a look of want in his eyes. It‘s probably just his own feelings staring back at him. He shakes his head and moves on.

“Beep Beep, Richie.” Eddie says and that seems to satisfy the other boy enough. They gather the cans and slowly make their way to Eddie’s house. When they arrive Richie helps him onto the roof again, somehow his hand makes it on Eddie’s ass. When Eddie is successfully in his room he looks out the window and calls down to the boy.

“Yellow.” He says.

“Huh?” Richie questions, his breath visible in the fall air.

“My favorite color is yellow you fucking moron.” He smiles, placing his elbow on the window seal and leaning on his hand. The love he has for Richie is warm and safe in his heart.

“I knew that. Why the fuck did you think I drew that sunrise?” Richie winks up. “Goodnight Ed’s.”

“Don’t call me that.” He replies but by then Richie is far out of sight. It took a bit for the butterflies and heavy tongue in Eddie’s mouth to disappear. He breaths out the window, watching his breath float into the night like his feelings for the other boy.

When Eddie lies down in bed that night he grabs the bandanna that he set on his bedside table. He brings it to his face and sniffs it once before placing it back. He falls asleep with a smile on his face and the smell of cigarettes, candy and spray paint in his nose.

*

Eddie is tipsy. Not drunk yet but he knows once he finishes this drink he will be. It’s Saturday, a few weeks since the first tagging of Derry and Eddie and Richie have gone out every week since. Richie has drawn amazing things; a skull, a middle finger, a large penis that he claimed was drawn to scale of his own dick, a really terrifying clown and a pink polo shirt. Eddie has done three more blobs.

The losers’ club has all stuffed themselves into Bill’s garage with three bottles of alcohol that Richie stole from his dad. Ben provided their mixers which is just three different choices of pop. Everyone is sat lazily on or around the two couches Bill had shoved into his garage a few years ago. The music, also provided by Richie, plays quietly in the background.

Eddie is swaying a bit, sitting cross legged on the ground with his drink cradled in his hands. He looks up and hums in sync with the music while nodding along to Ben and Mike’s conversation about the evil librarian. They are sat with Bev on the couch across from where Eddie is sitting. Bill, Stan and Richie sitting on the couch behind Eddie. The smaller boy is leaned against the edge where Richie is slouched. His long legs brushing up against the hypochondriac’s side.

Eddie likes drinking. He doesn’t love it. It’s fun and it helps calm his constant anxiety but he also thinks that there are more ways to have fun. But his friends like it so Eddie joins in -not because of peer pressure, no they always say he doesn’t need to drink. He’s also a bit of a lightweight. He’s small, tiny, with basically no body fat. That’s why he does 10% alcohol and 90% pop in his drink, except for tonight since Richie insisted that he could make Eddie the most  _spectacular_  drink with vodka, sprite and coke. It’s a terrible combination, basically all vodka.

That’s how Richie drinks, chugging back any alcohol with about a sip of pop. He’s not following in his dad’s footsteps, no he’s better than that, but it still makes Eddie worry in the back of his skull. He’s also a bit of a lightweight- not that he’d admit it. When he’s drunk he talks a lot. Which is saying something because once Richie talked during a two hour movie without taking a moment to pause for a breath. Eddie talks too when he’s past a certain point of his drunkenness. That usually leads to the two boys blabbering about nonsense and Richie doing some dumb dare that Eddie thought was a genius idea.

The rest of the losers are all lightweights, except for Mike and Ben; they can drink more than anyone else. Bev is usually on the floor in giggles by her fifth drink while Stan and Bill usually have their tongues down each other’s throat around their sixth drinks. Their hands start going to dark places during their seventh drink.

Thankfully no one is that drunk yet. Richie is talking above Eddie, trying to get the smaller boys attention who is still humming along to the song.

“Girls just wanna have fu-n.” He mumbles out, sipping his drink. It’s nasty. Ben is telling a slightly slurred story about how the librarian once took his pencil out of his hand and snapped it in half when Eddie feels Richie tapping his leg with his foot. He turns and looks up at Richie with large innocent eyes.

“Ed’s, I’m telling you this story pay attention.” He doesn’t wait for a response before diving back into how he once had a dream where he was an arcade game. Eddie lays his head back on Richie’s knee, blinking up at the taller boy and nodding along to the story, adding his own little thoughts over top of Richie.

“What if you fucking die?” Eddie whispers slowly.

“And then I-.” Richie pauses for a second. “I’m not gonna die. No matter who the shitty player is -hell Ben could play and I would still live. Video game me is undefeated let me tell you-“

“You should be the hero then, not the villain.” Eddie giggles to himself, shaking against Richie’s leg. It’s warm here.

“I am the hero!” Richie takes a long slip of his drink, shaking his head lightly when he finishes. He sets down his cup and places his hand in Eddie’s hair he combs through his lightly. The large hands feel nice oh Eddie, even though they are messing up his perfectly styled hair. This is better though. Eddie slips is eyes closed for a few seconds before Richie speaks up again.

“I’m the hero of my video game which means I can’t die. Sure I’ll be pixilated and then I’ll just come back with vengeance to kill the Bowers- oh yeah Henry Bowers and his gang were part of the game. They were the bosses and Henry was the last boss who I defeated to save the princess.”

_Take on me_  begins to play. Eddie hums along while still listening to Richie.

“And guess who the princess is Eddie? Guess?” And Richie actually stops talking long enough to answer.

“Me?” He smiles.

“No,” Richie shakes his head. “It was your mom!” He shouts in the garage earning a glare from Mike who was telling Ben about his worst time with the librarian.

“Not fucking funny.” Eddie fires back, taking a sip of his drink and glaring at Richie. His head still rested against the other boy’s knee.

“It was! We fucked after I win-.”

“I don’t need to hear about your weird fucking wet dreams, Richie.” Eddie drawls.

“Ed’s my boy. This was not a wet dream. My wet dreams only include you in tiny red shorts-“. Bill chokes on his drink next to Richie. Stan pants his back.

“TMI, R-Richie.” Bill coughs out.

“What?” Richie turns to look at him. “Don’t worry Bill I’ve had wet dreams about you too. We were-.”

“That’s so disgusting, Richie.” Eddie lifts his head off of the other’s leg. Both boys are suddenly cold.

“You’re disgusting.” Richie fires back. Eddie frowns, downing the rest of his drink and wincing at the taste. He’s never letting Richie make his drink again.

“Keep your mouth shut over there, Richie. No one needs to hear about your wannabe sex life.” Bev calls across the room, giggling slightly. Eddie chuckles behind his empty cup.

“Wannabe?” Richie stumbles up and across the room towards the girl. “Sweetheart my sex life is harder and louder than yours and Benny boy’s will ever be. Cigarette?” He holds his hand out to Bev. She rolls her eyes at him and pulls out her pack to slip him one.

“Hey- don’t smoke in here. My dad will kill me if he finds out.” Bill calls out.

“The window is open.”

“No, trashmouth.”

“Stan. Help me out here.” Richie points to Bill with his unlit cigarette between his fingers. Stan just smiles and brings his and Bill’s lips together.

“Gross.” Ben whispers.

“Oh, Benny,” Richie trips back over to his seat. He goes to sit down above Eddie but somehow falls and that’s how Eddie ends up seated between Richie’s legs, his small back against the other’s chest. Richie’s long legs spread out on either side of Eddie’s body. Even though he’s drunk a small ball of nerves begins to fill Eddie as he blushes and sinks into body behind him. He shouldn’t, he should push Richie away and sit cold by himself. His drunk mind though tells him he’s safe here, that he’s warm and this is where he deserves to be.

“I’ve seen you and Bev do worse than what Stan and Bill do, right Ed’s?” Richie pulls out a lighter and flicks it over his cigarette. Ben blushes as Richie inhales behind Eddie. He tilts his head back and exhales the smoke up. Sober Eddie mentally thanks him for not blowing it at him.

“Don’t call me that.” He says with no heat. “But yeah, once Richie and I walked in on Ben and Bev-.”

“Shush it you two.” Bev glares across the room. “Go fuck each other already so we don’t have to hear you guys complain our about relationships.”

There’s a beat of silence. Eddie blushes a deep red and he thanks everything in the books that Richie is behind him and can’t see. He could argue back and say that it isn’t funny. He could say he wouldn’t touch a naked Richie with a ten foot pole but that would all be a lie. And his drunk brain knows not to let out his big secret about the trashmouth behind him and if he responds to Bev he’s afraid everything might come out.

“Can’t. I fucked Eddie’s mom already today and she kind of tired my dick out.” Richie mumbles out behind the cigarette in his mouth.

“I though your dick _‘never gives up_ ’?” Eddie quotes, trying to break the tension and ignore the thoughts in his brain.

“For you, Ed’s? I think I could get it back up.” Richie whispers loudly into Eddie’s ear. Eddie looks down at the garage floor, his face red and embarrassed. He hopes that his drunk brain will keep shut. That it won’t say how badly he loves Richie. How sitting in this position is making him warm and loved. He wishes he could always be here -this close to Richie. He wishes the boy behind him would like him back-  _love_  him back.

Unfortunately, Eddie’s drunk brain clicks into control.

“That sounds nice.” He turns his head and looks at Richie’s lips. Quickly he turns back around and crushes his empty cup. His anxiety spikes up as he realizes what his brain said. He can feel Richie’s eyes on him. The other losers have moved on already, discussing something about the movie  _Terminator_. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol fill Eddie’s nose. The sense of fear and regret consume his body.

“Oh.” Richie says, his mouth basically touching the back of Eddie’s neck.  _Billie Jean_  by Michael Jackson fades into the room. Eddie swallows and thankfully is saved by his watch beeping, signaling that he has ten minutes to be home.

“Well,” Eddie quickly tries to stand up, failing twice and needing help from Stan who pulls him up by the arm. He’s swaying in the middle of the room with Richie’s eyes on him. Eddie forbids his body to look or face him. “Curfew.” He raises his still beeping watch at the rest of the losers.

“Bye Eddie!” Ben calls out but Eddie is already stumbling out the door. He’s a lot drunker than he felt all night. That’s why you don’t drink and sit down, kids. The cold fall air feels nice against his body but after a few steps he realizes he left his jacket inside. Eddie sighs but doesn’t dare turn back around.

What he said isn’t a big deal, not at all, but Eddie’s anxiety makes it feel that way. He feels like a fuck up. He looked directly at Richie’s lips and basically told him that he wants him. Now Richie probably knows his secret and is telling all the other losers. They’re all probably laughing behind him back, calling him names. Making fun of the short anxiety filled boy for being in love with the tall dirty boy.

Eddie kicks a stone and loses his footing, stumbling a bit. If anyone looks outside right now it would be obvious he’s drunk; a drunk lonely loser who’s head over heels for the trashmouth of Derry.

*

“Do you have feelings for Richie?” Bill asks Eddie after they finish their History homework. They are in the school library for their free period. It’s been about two weeks since the night they all got drunk. Richie acted as if nothing had happened and dragged Eddie out to tag the side of the arcade.

“W-what?” Eddie stutters out. Closing his history book and avoiding eye contact from his friend.

“It’s just, you and Richie a-always look and act more than friends.”

“That’s gross, Bill,” Eddie let’s out a loud fake laugh. “Richie is my best friend- like a brother to me.” He lies through his teeth.

“Are you sure?” Bill’s face is unreadable. “You can t-tell me anything.”

He could say it. It might help with his anxiety. Eddie could feel better and talk about his feelings. He can trust Bill. He knows that Bill won’t judge him too badly. The anxiety that he feels pulls him back though. He can’t say it out loud. He can say he loves Richie. Eddie himself is still dealing with his feelings, Bill doesn’t need to deal with it as well.

“I’m positive I don’t have feelings for the trashmouth.” Eddie smiles at Bill. There a beat of silence where Bill just looks at Eddie and studies his face.

“Whatever you say.” Bill shrugs. Eddie avoids him for the rest of the day.

*

It’s the first week of December when Eddie finds himself running into the boy’s locker room after school.

“Fuck- fuck,  _fuck_.” Eddie breaths out, his chest heaving. He looks around the locker room to search for a place to hide. The Bowers gang are after him. They saw him alone in the hallway and decided the small yellow shirt boy was a good target for their boredom. He panics with sweat on his forehead and looks around the locker room.

“Shit.” Eddie hears the locker room door open and the Bowers gang is on him before he even blink. He isn’t sure what or how it happened but suddenly he’s stuck inside of a locker bleeding from his nose and having one of his worst anxiety attacks.

He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking breathe. It’s small in here and dark. He can’t see -not because of the dark locker. No. His eyes are blinking out tears. He can’t help it -he can’t control himself. He’s crying loudly, echoing in the locker. Faintly Eddie can hear the laughter of the Bowers gang but it feels like they’re miles away. Worst of all Eddie’s chest is tight, so tight he thinks his heart is being crushed. His lungs no doubt are dying by the way he’s gasping because he  _can’t. fucking. breathe._

He wants out. He wants to escape and use his unnecessary inhaler. He wants to take one last breath. Out -get him out! Eddie’s arms are heavy. Too heavy for him lift. He can’t find a way out. He’s stuck here forever. He’s going to die here; sobbing, bloody and having an anxiety attack in a smelly boy’s locker.

The harder Eddie works trying to breath and to stop crying the worst it gets. He’s dying. This is it. His anxiety is going to finally kill him. Sure he struggles with it every day but now, here in this fucking locker he’s going to die. He lets out a loud gasp. Is it loud? Or is it all just in Eddie’s mind?

There’s commotion coming from outside. Or maybe it’s coming from Eddie himself. He’s dizzy and can’t seem to know what’s happening. It’s exactly eight minutes and twenty-three before he finds himself falling out of the locker and into arms.

“No.” Eddie sobs, he tries to fight back but his arms are heavy too heavy to lift let alone fight. The Bowers gang is going to kill him. Not his anxiety. No the Bowers gang is coming back to finish off the smaller boy. “Please n-no,” He hiccups. He looks up at the owners of the arms who are slowly moving Eddie to the floor. It’s Mike and Richie. Or at least it looks like them. Maybe he’s already dead. Maybe this is the afterlife and Richie and Mike are here with him.

Someone is petting his hair. Someone else is petting his back. Someone is talking above him. Too many hands. Too many people. He shakes his head and tries to crawl away, sobbing and still gasping for air that his lungs can’t seem to be bothered with. His back hits against the locker he was just in. He crawls away from that too.

There are voices talking. Saying his name, calling to him but everything sounds like he’s stuck underwater. Maybe he is. Maybe that’s why he can’t hear or breathe. Like a fish out of water, only opposite. He blinks twice and tries to listen for the voices.

“Eddie.” Is that Stan? Maybe. Who knows.

He listens again.

“Ed’s.” Richie’s voice vaguely fills his ears. Eddie looks in the direction of the voice. His best friend. The one he loves.

“Rich?” He sobs out. Searching for the boy with blurring vision.

“Yeah babe, I’m right here.” A soft voice says. “Look at me, Ed’s.” The small boy blinks back tears and wipes some snot on his sleeve. There’s faint whispering coming from above Eddie. It’s probably the rest of the losers. They found him and saved him. Eddie cries harder.

“Rich.” Eddie sobs out, finding himself clutching Richie’s shirt and burying his face in it. He sniffs the smell of candy and cigarettes. Slowly, he feels better. He feels like can he breathe. His chest is lighter. His arms aren’t heavy. His anxiety is fading away. Not much, but enough for him to relax.

“I got you.” Richie whispers into Eddie’s hair. His arms holding Eddie tight and slowly rubbing his back.

“We got you.” Bill says from beside them. Blindly Eddie reaches a hand up and grips whoever is closest to Richie and him. Eddie doesn’t look but he knows all the losers are surrounding them. Their faces filled with sadness and worry. When one member of their group is down, they are all down.

God, Eddie loves them.

Eddie doesn’t remember much after that. He’s tired and his body is exhausted from his anxiety attack. The losers clean him up and take him home. Thankfully, his mother is out when they arrive and they all gather in Eddie’s bedroom. They listen to the radio and blabber on about nonsense. Eddie doesn’t listen he just sighs and sinks deeper into his spot between Stan and Richie.

It’s about 7pm when Sonia kicks the losers out, yelling and blaming them for the reason her son looks paler than a piece of paper. She then spends an hour feeling Eddie’s forehead and asking him what’s wrong. When he says nothing she screams for ten minutes straight. She threatens to take him to the hospital if he doesn’t take some dumb placebos. Eddie is too tired to fight so he swallows the pills and locks the door when she finally leaves.

Exactly forty seconds after the door is locked and the lights are off Richie is crawling through his window.

”Hey, babe.” Richie uses the nickname for about the sixth time that night. Eddie doesn’t say anything he just sits up on his bed crosses legged and back against the wall. Richie is smiling shyly as lays down on the bed and places his head next to Eddie’s leg. He takes Eddie’s hand and places in the soft curls, the other boy slowly plays with them. 

“When’s the last time you took a shower?” Eddie whispers, not truly caring. He’s tired and his actions are almost robotic now. 

“I’m not sure.” Richie watches Eddie through his glasses. He sees the tired stressed look on his friend’s face. “Are you okay? Do you want me to leave?” He asks quietly. 

Eddie shakes his head. He doesn’t answer, hoping that the silence speaks enough for him. He needs Richie here for some reason. He needs to be held together. Richie will do that for him. Just being here is helping Eddie, his anxiety still beating deep into his ears, draining him so much. He slouches down in the bed until he’s laying next to Richie, he moves his hand down between their bodies.

“I’ll kill Bowers if you need me too. Just say the word.” Richie tells him. Both boys are lying on their backs and staring at the faded glow in the dark stars Eddie has had since he was six.

Eddie doesn’t say anything in response. He listens to Richie’s breathing and closes his eyes. Eddie can hear the other boy moving, he can feel the big eyes on him. It takes thirty seconds for Eddie to feel a bigger and rougher hand slip into his own. The small boy’s heart begins to beat a bit faster. He feels himself beginning to panic but a squeeze from the other hand calms him down.

Richie isn’t there when Eddie wakes the next day.

Eddie stays in bed and skips school.

*

The next time they go tagging it’s with Mike. There was a disagreement with his grandparents so he’s spending the night at Richie’s house. Therefore, with Eddie as well in the freezing cold December air. He joins Richie in the Rapunzel role-play he does to gather Eddie once a week.

“Mike is that you?” Eddie smiles down, happy to see another loser joining them.

“The one and only.” The muscular boy says as he helps catch Eddie from his dismount off the roof.

“It’s going to get snowy and icy soon, Richie. I think that we might be delayed for a few weeks to perform this illegal activity.” Eddie jokes, zipping up his coat and already regretting his choice to not wear that second pair of pants.

“We will see.” Is all Richie says. Eddie swears he sees a glare thrown in Mike’s direction before he leads the three of them into the night.

They end up under a red bridge coverage.

“I think that I need to start bringing a chair.” Eddie says from the floor of the wooden bridge he’s already sitting on. It’s dusty and dirty but Eddie sucks it up. “And a fireplace.” He chuckles to himself, rubbing his gloved hands together for warmth.

“I have just the idea.” Richie smiles and begins digging through a newly purchased arrangement of colors.

“Aren’t you doing anything?” Mike asks Eddie, grabbing a neon green from the cans.

“Eddie doesn’t tag much. He usually just sits there and stares at my beautiful body.” Richie winks and weirdly stretches his body. Eddie tilts his head at him, only blushing a bit but he doesn’t worry because his cheeks are already red from the cold.

“You fucking wish. I actually just stare and think about your oddly shaped head.” Eddie snaps back.

“Well that’s just mean.” Richie crosses his arms over his chest.

“Not mean, just honest.” Eddie teases with a smirk.

“At least I can reach the top cupboards of my kitchen.” Richie laughs.

“Don’t be mean.”

“You’re the mean one, Ed’s.”

“Don’t call me, Ed’s!”

“Shut up lovebirds.” Mike interrupts. The other two boys glare at him, Mike ignores their looks.

“Your mom would fucking tag better than you.” Richie whispers.

“I heard that asshole!” Eddie shouts, his voice echoing in the bridge.

“You heard nothing.” Richie says in some weird voice. Eddie wants to kiss his stupid face.

“God you guys are so married.” Mike says, pulling his scarf up over his mouth and shaking a neon yellow can.

“That’s a weird fucking thing to say,” Richie says. “I’m his step-father Mike. I can’t be married to my son.”

“This conversation is too fucking weird I’m zoning out now.”

And he does. Eddie looks down through a crack in the bridging, watching the water flow slowly below them. He listens as Richie and Mike begin to draw. The other two discussing different ideas and things to make this bridge “a fucking Mona Lisa” as Richie wants it to be.

“Mona Lisa is a dumb fucking painting.” Eddie speaks up.

“Agreed.” Richie’s voice is muffled behind his bandanna. He points his spray can at Eddie and gives him a wink. Eddie looks away with butterflies flapping in his stomach.

Ah fuck Richie. No, fuck Eddie for his dumbass feelings.

They aren’t at the bridge long. Mike and Richie rush through their work, shivering and desperate for warmth. They leave quickly and walk slowly towards Eddie’s house. Richie is talking about something involving him and their English teacher. He is also about ten feet in front of the other two boys and doesn’t seem to notice that Eddie and Mike are having their own conversation.

“You guys do this once a week?” Mike asks.

“Richie comes to my house and drags me out. I might need to cut him short soon, I’m fucking freezing and can’t risk getting frost bite.” Eddie says honestly. He’s watching Richie, pointing at random houses and laughing at his own jokes. He looks like a crazy person. Of course Eddie loves the one crazy person in Derry.

“He might cry if you said that. God knows that trashmouth wouldn’t survive without you.” Mike kicks a rock, it skips past Richie but the other boy doesn’t notice.

“What does that mean?” The smaller boy asks. They follow Richie through the shortcut and Eddie bites his lip.

“I think we both know what that means.” Mike is smart. He’s wise. He’s a silent one in the group but he’s also the most observant. For some reason in this moment Eddie thinks he can trust Mike more than anyone. More than the time Bill asked if Eddie had feelings for Richie. Maybe Mike can help Eddie. Eddie pushes down his anxiety as he thinks over the next words that he whispers to Mike.

“Do you, do you think Richie likes me? As in like  _like_.” His voice is soft and innocent. He watches Richie pick up and throw a stick through the air. What a dumbass.

“Remember a few weeks ago when you got stuck in that lockers by Bowers?” Mike doesn’t wait for Eddie to answer. “Richie got detention that next day, he poured a bottle of milk all over Henry Bowers during lunch.”

“He  _what_?” Eddie nearly shouts. Richie turns around and looks at the two of them for a second, still talking about something dumb.

“He told us not to tell you for some reason. I’m not saying he likes you but I’m also not saying that trashmouth wouldn’t break every bone in his body if it meant you would smile.”

Eddie doesn’t get a chance to respond. Richie has found interest in a random cloud near the moon and finds it necessary to squeeze between Mike and Eddie. He throws arms around each boy and directs their attention to the cloud. Eddie doesn’t listen. He can’t. His mind is running.

Richie fucking got detention for him. He probably got threatened from Bowers. Now’s he walking on egg-shells around school. All for what? For Eddie having an anxiety attack? That’s normal, that’s not the first one and it’s definitely not the last. So why, why did he do it?

Eddie looks up at the culprit. His curls bouncing with every step and his glasses slipping slightly from his face. He’s laughing and smiling. Telling some dumb joke. Swearing up a storm. Being loud and obnoxious no matter the dark hour. And fuck it if Eddie doesn’t love him more than anything. And in that moment when Richie looks at him with a look in his eye Eddie begins to believe that Richie might just love him back.

*

“This is a fucking awful idea.” Eddie shivers out. It’s beginning to snow and no matter how many layers Eddie is wearing he still can’t seem to get warm. His pink bandana is tied around his neck as an ascot under his scarf. He silently steps closer to Richie who is finishing his cigarette and staring at the wall they choose for tonight. The fucking school. That’s what Richie wants to tag.  _The schoo_ l.

“This is a fucking good idea.” Richie throws his arm around Eddie and pull him close, rubbing the smaller boys shoulder. Eddie lets out a silent thank you as he warms up slightly. “It’s time for us to put a big fuck you to this shitty ass school.” Richie says darkly.

“Did you have a bad day at school today?” Eddie whispers. Richie has been off all day, complaining more than usual about the other kids in school and the teachers who he thinks are after him. When they got their English test back Richie just shoved his into his backpack and left the classroom without Eddie. He also had a red cheek during lunch where Eddie has no doubt Bowers hit him.

Richie takes a long drag from his cigarette, snowflakes falling into his black curls.

“Honestly?” Eddie nods at Richie, encouraging the other. “Yes, but I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“I understand.” Eddie says. He’s just glad that Richie actually talked about something, he actually acknowledged he’s not okay. This is so unlike Richie who will laugh and make jokes all through the Bowers beating and bruising him -not knowing when to shut up. Maybe it’s the cold air or maybe it’s because Eddie has noticed the deepest of Richie comes out when they go tagging but it makes Eddie smile a bit.

Richie wasn’t kidding. He sprays on a big ‘ _Fuck you_ ’ in crazy colorful letters. Eddie watches curled up against the old dirty bleachers that the school doesn’t use anymore. The longer he watches Richie though the warmer he feels even though the air gets colder. The anxiety that Eddie has had each time they do this has dwindled down to only a heartbeat of worry. His love for Richie has grown way stronger. Together with Richie, Eddie feels nearly no anxiety- just love.

Maybe Eddie should tell him. Now would be a good time, right?

“Holy shit!” Richie nearly shouts his head whips away from the wall in the opposite direction of Eddie. There are red and blue lights flickering at the end of the school’s alley way. He drops the red can he’s using and rushes over to where Eddie is sitting.

“Oh shit- oh fuck! Rich, what do we do?!” Eddie squeaks out, jumping onto his feet and grabbing the taller boys wrists. The police car doors open and two officers are beginning to walk towards the boys, their car lights nearly blinding Eddie.

“Hey you.” One of the police officers calls to them.

“You run.” Richie says, the officers are slowly making their way over. His tall body is shielding Eddie from the officers sight.

“What?” Eddie’s eyes are wide and his chest feels tight with panic.

“You’re mom will fucking  _kill_  you if she finds out. Sneak under the bleachers and run home.” Richie begins to push Eddie under the dirty bleachers.

“What- Richie are you crazy? I can’t let you get caught-.”

“What are you doing out here kid?” The other officer says. They are way closer now and thankfully still can’t see Eddie.

“Run.” Richie looks Eddie in the eyes. There’s fear behind the glasses. “Kiss your mom goodnight for me.” Richie whispers to him and with a peck to Eddie’s cheek Richie shoves him under and away from the officers sight.

Eddie’s breath is heavy as he hears the officers finally approach Richie. Of course the boy needs to trashmouth them. Only getting more in trouble then he already is for illegally tagging the fucking school. God, Eddie swears that tomorrow he’s going choke Richie for dumb choices.

Eddie finally gets out from under the bleachers and falls face first into the cold ground. His hands get all scrapped up but he shakes it off as his heartbeat quickens. He runs forward through the rest of the alley, looking back towards where the lights are still flashing. Wrong choice of course because he runs directly into a third police officer.

“Gotcha punk.” His breath smells like he hasn’t brushed his teeth in weeks. Eddie nearly vomits, from both the smell and the fact that he’s going to get arrested. The officer is big and his hands grip Eddie’s tiny arms tightly. The small boy struggles and looks back towards where Richie is. Oh fuck - _shit fuck_ \- god they are both so fucked.

“H-hello, officer.” Eddie continues to squirm, trying to break free. “Beautiful night isn’t it?” He smiles, shakily.

“Nice try, kid.” Eddie closes his mouth trying not to inhale the gross breath of the officer. He knows being nice won’t get him out of the situation.

Option two then:

“I’m not a fucking kid and your breath sinks.”

“Oh, shut up.” The officer stands up, not letting go of Eddie, and clicks the button on his radio. “I got one. He’s super small and sassy.”

“Hey! I’m not small!” Eddie shouts at the officer. He ignores him.

“This one is a little bastard.” Another officer calls back, no doubt talking about Richie. “Meet us at the station.”

“Wait-,” Eddie panics, the officer shoves him in the back of the police car. Bars separating him from the smelly officer. He’s going to jail. He’s going to jail and he’s going to die there. He’s probably going to be beat and rapped. Oh lord he’s so small -he’s going to be eaten alive.

Eddie feels his breath quicken. He looks at the falling snow wishing that Richie wasn’t in the police car behind him and instead next to him. His chest gets tighter and tighter. Eddie’s heart hurts, his lungs begin aching as he gasps for breaths. His eyes crying out wet hot tears. He can’t help it. He’s going to die in jail. If he doesn’t die in jail then his mom is going to kill him. Or worse she’ll create her own jail for him and keep him locked in his bedroom. She’ll keep him from his friends. He’ll be alone forever.

“Be quiet back there, kid.” Eddie hears through his sobs. The officer doesn’t care. No one cares. He puts his face in his hands and cries into them. Not caring how pathetic he looks.

They arrive at the police station and Eddie is being pulling in by his upper arm. His breaths get harder to take, his lungs are drying up. He’s placed in a chair against a wall, his face still in his hands.

“Ed’s!” He hears and looks up to see Richie kicking an officer in the shin and running over to him. Eddie blinks out tears, his mouth opening and closing as he struggles to breathe.

“R-.” He tries to talk. Richie places two hands on either of Eddie’s cheeks, the boys looks into each other’s eyes.

“Look at me, babe.” The nickname makes Eddie stop even trying to breathe anymore.

He stares at Richie.

“In and out. You can breath, your lungs are okay.” Richie takes a deep breath and blows out his stale cigarette breath towards Eddie. Their faces mere inches apart. Richie continues his deep breaths until Eddie is following in suit. Breathing with him. His lungs fill back up and his chest lightens but just a bit.

“We are going to go to fucking  _jail_.” Eddie hears himself say, his voice breaking.

“I would never let you go to jail,” Richie’s thumb swipes across the small boy’s cheek, wiping away tears.

“Okay break it up, kids.” A new officer says, pulling Richie off of Eddie and forcing him to sit in the seat next to him. Eddie feels Richie’s hand find its way to his lower back.

“Officer, please-.” Richie tries.

“You boys were not only trespassing but you were vandalizing school property.” The officer says. He’s old with graying hair and a bit of a belly. He crosses his arms over his chest. “What’s your names? And no sassing.” He eyes Richie for a second.

“Richie Tozier.”

“Eddie Kaspbrak.” Eddie hiccups, still crying and scooting closer to Richie. The officer flicks his hand at another officer listening in, no doubt having their names searched.

“How old are you two, Eddie?” He asks. Eddie looks at his name tag; Officer Scott Bishop.

“We are seventeen, sir.” Eddie whipsers, “please don’t call my mom.” He adds.

“Why shouldn’t I call your mom? You committed a crime-.”

“Eddie didn’t do anything,” Richie interrupts. “I dragged him to the school with me, he kept saying how he didn’t want to be there but I wouldn’t let him leave. Please don’t punish him.” Eddie blinks sideways at Richie. There’s fear and worry on the other boy’s face; a look Eddie’s barely ever seen.

”My mom will k-kill me.” Eddie cries out, the officer says nothing. 

“She’s not going to kill you, Ed’s.” 

“But Rich-.” 

“Boys-.” The officer tries.

“Please don’t send us to jail!” Eddie blurts out, his breathing becoming a tad more difficult to maintain. Richie slips his hand into his, the officers eyes flicker towards the movement.

“Listen boys,” the Officer Bishop crouches down so he’s level with the teens. He speaks with kindness. “I need to call your parents, you’re underage and it’s a law. Which you don’t seem to understand because you broke one tonight. You aren’t going to jail,” Eddie lets out a sob of happiness, “you’re probably going to have to do some community service though. Like taking off all the graffiti you have been putting up around town during the last few months.”

“B-but that wasn’t us! I fucking swear it wasn’t us.” Richie says, “ask my mom! I’m home every night doing homework- I don’t have time to do that and neither does Eddie. We just went out tonight because I thought it would be a fun idea.” He lies.

The officer stands back up and stares at the two frightened boy’s. Going over Richie’s story in his head.

“Eddie, is this true?” He asks.

“Yes, it’s true.” Eddie lies as well.

They get off the hook. Terrible police work in Eddie’s opinion but not that he’ll say that out loud. No community service for the boys but just a small warning that they shouldn’t try to graffiti again. Richie also convinces Officer Bishop that Henry Bowers is behind the other graffiti spread around town, explaining how he saw them once and how he overhears them in school talking about it. Eddie agrees and even tells how Henry Bowers usually has blue spray paint on his hands during school.

As the officer leaves to write his report Richie turns to Eddie with a smile. Their hands still clamped together.

“Do you think they would let me play with their taser?” Richie asks Eddie. The other boy giggles and lets out a smile. He wipes his face with his free hand. It takes about five minutes of Eddie breathing until he answers.

“I think that they would rather shoot themselves in the face than let you borrow their taser.”

“Their loss,” Richie just shrugs.

“It isn’t.” Eddie smiles, a few tears still falling. “Also, this is the only time I’m saying this but thank fuck for your trashmouth.”

“Like I said, Ed’s my boy, I won’t let you go to jail.” Richie scoots down in his chair and lays his head back, closing his eyes. He doesn’t dare take his hand out of Eddie’s.

Unfortunately, their parents are called and Eddie is dragged away by his ear. He gives Richie a small smile when he leaves. His anxiety still high but the smile Richie gives back helps just a bit. Richie gets a slap to the back of his head when his mom picks him up. The officers turn the other way at that. Richie doesn’t mind, he just grins and gets into the passenger seat of the car.

*

It’s been a week since Eddie has been allowed out of his house. Ironically enough it’s the week before Christmas break. So joke on his mom, he gets two weeks off of school. Stan has been kind enough to bring Eddie his homework after school, not that Eddie has seen him. His mom keeps him locked in his room and only allows him out three times a day to use the bathroom. Weird enough this is worse than jail. As Eddie expected.  His mom constantly reminds him of this every time he sees her fat ugly face. God, Eddie hates her.

Tonight she is out for a few hours and Eddie thankfully has a phone in his bedroom.

“It’s my families Christmas party tonight, everyone is coming.” Bill whines into the phone.

“You know I can’t sneak out my window,” He sighs and glances towards the snow falling outside. “I’m not taking another risk because if my mom finds out who knows what she’ll do to me. I’m already in house jail, she’s probably lock me in a cage next.”

“But we haven’t s-seen you in weeks Eddie. Plus, Richie hasn’t had anyone to bicker with so he’s picking someone different in the group to annoy every day.”

“You need me because Richie is annoying you?” Eddie chuckles.

“You know how he usually is but times that by a m-million.” Bill explains. Eddie can picture it. Richie bouncing between loser and loser telling dumb your mom jokes while everyone just rolls their eyes instead of fighting back like Eddie would.

“Trashmouth that bad?” Eddie says with fond in his voice.

“Please come. We all miss you.” Bill begs. Bill must really miss him. They all must really miss him. Even though they want him mostly so Richie can just bother him instead. Eddie misses them all too. He looks at the locks on his bedroom door before he answers.

“Okay.”

“Perfect! Richie is already outside your window! S-see you soon.” Bill hangs up.

And sure enough Richie is on the ground waving up at Eddie outside his house. He looks dumb in his stupid winter clothes. His dumb cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He’s dumb and he makes Eddie’s face break into a smile. He quickly flings open his window.

“Juliet, oh my beautiful Juliet.” Richie calls up, his cigarette muffling his terrible attempt at his Shakespeare voice.

“Romeo, where art thou Romeo?” Eddie sighs, adding to the dramatics and resting his head in his hands, gazing up at the moon. A picture perfect moment.

“Art thou Juliet hence forth down the house top?” Richie tries, the smaller boy rolls his eyes. They both know it sucked. “Just get your tiny ass down here. I’m cold.” He says instead.

“Let me get changed first.” Eddie calls back. He takes a step away from the window and goes into his closet to slip on his only ugly Christmas sweater he’s had since he was 13. It’s a dark green with a large puffy snowman. Hideous. He puts on his biggest winter jacket and without a glance back at his jail locked bedroom door he’s out the window.

When Richie catches Eddie and places him on the snowy ground the small boy looks at his friend. His dark curls are stuffed into a winter cap, a few have escaped around his face. He’s changed out his giant glasses for the contacts he hates so much with a crooked wide smile directed at Eddie. God Eddie has missed him. He’s only talked to Richie twice on the phone since the police incident. Both times consisted of Richie offering to fuck Eddie’s mom so she’ll let him out of the house. Both times ended with Eddie bitching him out.

“I missed you.” He tells Richie. It feels good. To say it, to be open and vulnerable. Maybe if he waits a few more moments his heart will open and he will say the thing he craves so badly.

“I missed you too, babe.”

Neither boy acknowledges the nickname and instead begins speed walking towards Bill’s house. Staying side by side somehow -usually one of Richie’s strides are two of Eddie’s. The taller boy is talking about how boring the other losers are, how none of them compare remotely to Eddie. The short boy doesn’t comment, just listening to the warming words coming from Richie. They’re foul and dirty but if you look past that the words are kind and loving. Eddie bites his lip, hoping that the flutter in his heart is something that Richie feels as well.

“Eddie!” All the losers shout once he finally steps into Bill’s house. It’s full of adults minutes the now seven 17 year olds who grab snacks and drinks from the food table and disappear into the garage. Bill puts on Christmas music and they all sit nicely on the couches. Bill, Stan and Mike on one while Richie, Eddie, Ben, and Bev are squeezed onto the other.

“You don’t understand how annoying Richie has been all week.” Bev leans over Ben to talk to Eddie. “He won’t shut the fuck up! Beeping him doesn’t do  _anything_. And everything coming out of his mouth is ‘ _Eddie would laugh_ _at that’_ or ‘ _Eddie would agree with me’_. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. That’s all he says and it’s so irritating.” She sighs, smiling evil at Eddie. The smaller boy turns beat read and sifts his knees up to his chest. He doesn’t dare look left where Richie is sitting. The others face just as red and angry looking at Bev.

“Sorry I’m so fucking amazing, Bev.” He smirks. She gives him a knowing look before leaning back.

“Besides Richie basically whining for you to come back we all did miss you.” Stan speaks up across the room, sipping on a bottle of coke.

“I do not fucking whine!” Richie shouts, voice high pitch. Everyone ignores him.

“I missed you guys too. Otherwise I wouldn’t have snuck out of my prison.” Eddie stands up, feeling hot, and takes off his coat to revile his Christmas sweater. He sits back down on the couch, this time with his legs under him.

“Cute shirt, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie throws his arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“Shut up.” Eddie growls.

“Cute, cute, cute!” Richie nearly shouts, usually the hand around Eddie to pinch the smaller boy’s cheek. The short boy’s face gets redder and he pushes away from Richie to slide onto the floor, sitting Indian style.

_Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_  begins to play.

“Poor Rudolph.” Ben says.

“Why?” Mike asks.

“Because they wouldn’t let him join in the games!” Ben says lamely. Eddie giggles at the thought of a bunch of reindeer denying the red-nosed one some fun. How rude.

Eddie begins eating a cookie that the losers took from the food table. Richie slides down next to him, maneuvering until his head is resting in the other boy’s lap. Eddie glares down at him with a questioning look.

“Feed me mama bird?” He says, closing his eyes and opening his mouth. Eddie smiles as he slips a piece of his cookie. His heart smiling as Richie chews. Of course trashmouth would do this. Lay his dumb head on Eddie’s lap and open his dumb mouth for Eddie to feed him a dumb cookie. And of course Eddie’s heart flutters over it.

“They are so dating.” Bev whispers to Ben, Eddie pretends he doesn’t hear it.

“That’s not how a mom bird feeds their baby. They usually chew and throw up the food into the baby birds mouth.” Stan states proudly.

“First off, Richie and I aren’t birds-.”

“Ed is still my mom tho-.” Eddie flicks his forehead, smiling.

“And the bigger pieces I give him the more likely he is to choke since you’re never supposed to eat laying down. If he chokes, he dies.” Eddie shrugs and shoves a too big piece into Richie’s mouth. The other boy just smiles and chews it.

“Please choke.” Stan whispers and Eddie chuckles.

_Carol of the bells_  begins to play.

“No fucking way!” Richie shoots up, grabbing Eddie’s hand and yanks them off the floor.

“Hey!” Eddie shouts and looks at his fallen and broken cookie on the ground. “You broke my cookie.” He frowns with a puppy dog look.

“Dance with me.” Richie smiles, still holding Eddie’s hand. It’s comforting.

“No way, you fucking broke my cookie.” Eddie frowns even more, yanking his hand back and crossing his arms. He’s pouting.

“Dance with him Eddie or else I’ll have to hear Richie complain about his crush denied him.” Mike sighs across the room. Eddie blushes while Richie's face is just as red.

“Fine, fine.” He places his hand out that Richie takes quickly. Eddie smiles as he’s pulled towards the taller boy. The music gets increasingly louder and Richie grabs his other hand. They twist and turn, moving lazily in beat with the music. Richie is yelling out the beat of the music.

“Bum! Bum bum bum! Bum!” He lets go of one of Richie’s hand and allows himself to be spun by the taller boy.

“Sweet silver bells!” Eddie sings, smiling and laughing when Richie does this weird thing with his body.

The other losers join in. Everyone dancing together. All of them singing and humming along. Eddie looks at his friends, smiling at them all. His eyes wander back to the boy still holding his hand. Richie’s eyes are normal size without his glasses and they’re watching Eddie. The taller boy is smiling and spinning him, squeezing his hand and yelling the lyrics into his ear.

When the song ends and the losers sit back down to eat some cookies Eddie sits with his head resting on Richie’s shoulder. Their hands still linked between their bodies. If the losers notice it, they don’t say anything.

*

_Tap, tap, tap_

Eddie looks up and around his room. What the fuck was that?

_Tap, tap, tap_

It’s louder this time and Eddie look at his bedroom door, thinking it’s his mother.

_Tap, tap, tap_

He finally looks at the window. The snow has fallen a lot more, dangerously so. There’s also the trashmouth of Derry smiling at him through the glass. He waves when Eddie spots him and gestures to the window. Eddie crawls off his bed and opens the window, sticking his head slightly out.

“What are you doing? It’s fucking freezing out here and icy. You could have fallen off the roof.” Eddie tells him, wrapping his arms around himself.

“You said last night how you missed me so I came with some goodies.” Richie shakes the backpack he’s wearing. Eddie’s heart warms up.

“Are these good goodies or am I going to be cleaning up crushed raisin cookies off my bed again.”

“I only bring good goodies to cute boys’ houses, Ed’s.” He winks and Eddie blushes.

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Sure whatever. Now, move your pretty ass and let me in. My pants are fucking soaked.”

Eddie looks back at his door and bites his lip before stepping back for Richie to fall non-gracefully into his room. He stands up, shaking out his curls and brushing the snow off his body. He looks good. Just in jeans and a hoodie but he looks good.

“Nice shirt.” Richie chuckles. Eddie looks down to see he’s wearing one of Richie’s old AC/DC shirts before he grew too big and gave it to Eddie.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie smiles and sits on his bed, Richie sits across from him. “So, what did you bring me?”

“Delicious food my dear boy.” He uses a dumb accent and dumps the contents of his backpack onto the bed. Out falls at least twenty Hostess CupCakes.

“No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way.” Richie smiles. Eddie picks one up, he also notices that Richie’s bag is empty and there’s no other snacks in it.

“Wait, you hate CupCakes.” Eddie frowns.

“But you don’t.” Richie whispers.

Eddie’s heart beats a tiny bit faster but he ignores it. He unwraps the food before shoving a whole one in his mouth.

“Hmm.” Eddie moans, closing his eyes.

“Geez, Ed’s. Don’t jizz your pants.” Eddie ignores him and shoves the other cupcake in his mouth- not even annoyed at the mess he’s making on his bed with crumbs.

“Hmm,” he moans again. Richie clears his throat and shifts on the bed.

“Anyways, I know that this is the last fucking thing you want to do but I-,” Eddie looks at him, Richie is looking and fiddling with his hoodie strings.

“But you what?” Eddie opens up another pack.

“Sneak out?” Richie sees the  _no_  already on Eddie’s face. “Just for like ten minutes I have something to show you.”

“Rich,” Eddie sets down the cupcake on the bed. The snow is piling hire and if he leaves for too long his window might be snowed in. Hell all of Derry might be snowed once that huge snowstorm hits in less than six hours. It’s not smart. It’s not a good idea. But Richie looks nervous yet hopefully so Eddie answers.

“Okay, ten minutes.”

That’s how the two boys find themselves walking outside, shoulder to shoulder to stay warm. Eddie shoved his hands deeper into his coat pocket as their feet sink into the snow; his pink bandanna tied around his wrist. 

“Why is snow so fucking good?” Richie says with his mouth opened and his face pointed to the sky. He catches a few flakes onto his tongue.

“It’s water.” Eddie giggles. He opens his own mouth to catch some snowflakes on his own tongue.

“This tastes better than water -hell this tastes better than your mom.” Eddie elbows the taller boy, he stumbles into the snow. Eddie giggles and keeps walking, leaving him to lie there. He breaths out heavily, watching his breath fade into the cold air. He ignores the nagging feeling that the snowstorm might hit early, he ignores the fact that he might die out here because when he looks back he sees Richie still laying in the show and watching him with a fond look.

"What?" Eddie calls out, still walking but more slowly now.

“You don’t even know where you’re fucking going.” Richie tells him.

“True. I’ll find my way there soon enough.” 

“Take a left.” Richie shouts, still laying on the ground. Eddie follows his directions and find himself in the dark alley of the library. A street light illuminates the very first wall they tagged.  _Loser_  stares at him.  _Lover_  stares at him.

“Why are we here?” Eddie asks, turning to a snowy Richie who stumbles down the alley where Eddie is. Eddie's heart fills with worry and hope at the same time, he feels weird standing here and looking at the very first yet most important thing that Richie has drawn. 

There's a long moment of silence where Eddie just stares at Richie who seems to be having a battle with himself. 

“I wanna kiss you.” Richie blurts out.

“W-what?” Eddie whispers, stepping back as Richie takes a step closer. His heartbeat picks up as he tries to understand what is happening. Richie brought him out here to...to  _kiss_  him? What does that mean? Does Richie love Eddie back? Or is he just fucking with Eddie. Maybe he loves him back though, maybe that's what all the hand holding and one-on-one time they've been spending mean. Is it? And the flirting? Or is that just them bickering? Is Eddie just thinking too much into the situation?  _Oh, just stop fucking thinking Eddie and listen to the boy!_

“I wanted to kiss you in your room but it’s so fucking stuffy in there so I brought you out here.” He gestures to the graffiti on the wall. Eddie spots his first blob. In it though there’s a small  _R_  and  _E_  that look new. Richie sees where Eddie is looking, he fidgets.

"I-." Eddie tries, not knowing where to start. 

“I know it’s dumb. I'm not good at this romantic bullshit and expressing feelings, you know that?" Eddie does. "I was bored since you’ve been all locked up. It sucks. No one wants to come tagging with me. Mike almost did once but he thinks it’s too cold out. But it’s not, I mean we are out here. It’s not that cold? It’s not cold right?” Richie steps into Eddie’s personal space. “And I hate to say it but you’re like my muse or some shit. I can’t really tag when you’re not there. Or at least I don’t know what to tag -it’s just I need to tell you this. I need you to understand that I can't keep my trashmouth shut anymore. Please, don't hate me? You don't hate me right? Stan told me that you'd want to kiss me back and I-.”

“You talk way too fucking much,” Eddie steps forward, taking his cold gloved hands wrapping them around Richie’s neck. He stands on his tip toes and presses their mouths together. The kiss is warm and innocent. It’s also cold and wet. Richie’s glasses are bumping against Eddie's face, digging roughly into Eddie’s face. It’s not a perfect kiss but as the snow falls over top of them into their hair and the streetlight hits the word  _lover_  just right- in it's own way the kiss is perfect.

“Wow.” Richie mumbles into Eddie’s mouth when they break away. Richie’s places his hands around Eddie’s back.

“I love you.” Eddie finally says, his hair now wet from the amount of snow in it.

“I love you too.” Richie doesn’t miss a beat.

Eddie kisses him again. Richie kisses back with force. When they pull back Eddie realizes that he’s okay. He has no anxiety in him. The moment Richie stepped through his window and the moment Eddie decided to follow him out Eddie stopped worrying so much. The small boy smiles as Richie presses a kiss to his forehead.

“So, we gonna fuck now or-?” Eddie laughs and pushes Richie away.

“Oh fuck you, you’re gross.” He responds, taking Richie’s hand in his own.

“I’m just saying. Now that you’re my boyfriend I want laid  _at least_  three times a day.” Richie leads them out of the alley. Eddie’s heart skips at the word boyfriend. Richie Tozier who once gave a speech to the losers about why he doesn’t need to shower everyday is his boyfriend.  _Disgusting_. Eddie smiles.

“You’re lucky if I look at you once a day let alone touch you.” Eddie fires back, their change in relationship has zero effect on their usual bickering - _thank god_.

“Damn, guess I’m gonna have to keep fucking your mom then.”

“Hardy, har, har.” Eddie fake laughs. Richie looks at him, the moonlight brightening their faces. Richie stops walking. “What?” The short boy questions.

“Would you hate me worse if I tackled you into the snow or if I threw a snowball at your face?”

Eddie debates it.

“Tackled-.” A snowball hits him the face. No surprise there. Eddie wipes away the snow and smiles at the taller boy. At his  _boyfriend_. His boyfriend who loves him back.

“Oh- it’s fucking on.” Eddie giggles, bending down and throwing a snowball back at Richie who dodges it and is throwing one back at Eddie just as fast.

“Gotta be quicker, babe.” Richie says loudly. Eddie blushes and throws another one, he hits Richie in the chest. The taller boy looks down at where he was hit and back up at the short boy who’s watching him with fight in his eyes.

“Bad move.” Richie fake growls. He runs at Eddie who shrieks and tries to scurry away. He gets one -two steps before Richie’s arms fly around his waist and pick him up from behind.

“Ah!” Eddie squeaks out. Richie laughs behind him and places Eddie back on the ground. His arms stay around Eddie as the boy turns around to face him.

“I win.” Richie puts their foreheads together, their noses bump and his glasses hit the others face.

“I think we both win.” Eddie whispers. They’re standing in the middle of the street. Eddie’s cold and wet but when Richie kisses him again he doesn’t worry about anything. Richie will keep him warm and safe. He always does. He always will.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!?


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